


petrichor

by villklovn



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Best Friends, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Klaus Hargreeves, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Just Bros, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Mild Language, No Incest, Pre-Canon, References to Drugs, Sad Ending, and now so must you, didn’t think I’d be writing about Ben’s death at 4 am but here we are, i had many feelings, no beta we die like ben, this is kinda sad not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-30 00:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21419293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villklovn/pseuds/villklovn
Summary: Many years before Dave, there was someone else Klaus managed to get clean for.OrA few months before they turn eighteen, Klaus and Ben plan on running away.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 28
Kudos: 134





	petrichor

**Author's Note:**

> I had feelings. I practically vomited this thing in three hours. Hope y’all like it <3
> 
> (The title is my little tribute to Doctor Who. The smell of dust after rain.)

Klaus stumbles into his room, making way less noise than he ought to, considering the state he’s in. 

He’s hopelessly high, giggly and loose-limbed and wild, and yet he manages to climb up through the window and has the presence of mind to carefully close it. He barely makes a sound. 

See, he’s stealthy. Always has been. Growing up surrounded by ghosts taught him to walk silently, as if he were a phantom himself.

The teenager wipes a hand over his face, smearing his makeup around, and stretches languidly, groaning. He undresses himself quickly and throws himself onto the bed, sighing blissfully. 

It’s late, but not so late that he won’t be able to get a halfway decent night of sleep. 

He’s lost in the haze of his high, and almost doesn’t hear his door open. He definitely hears the old wood on the floor creak when someone steps into his room. 

It’s Ben. Of course it’s Ben. Ben is really the only one in this fucking family who hasn’t yet given up on him. 

He has to be fair, though – it’s not like he makes it easy for the others to care for him. They tried, as best as they could – _which isn’t all that much, actually_ – but he pushed any offer of help away. 

Luther and his righteous speeches, counterbalanced by the fear in his eyes that one day his gangly and pale brother won’t make it home, just like Five, and that he’ll fail miserably at his job – that is, being the leader, being Number One. What kind of leader lets his team down, after all? What kind of leader lets his brother endanger himself without trying to help?

Klaus made fun of him, when he tried, and sometimes even insulted him, telling him to go back to kissing their dad’s ass and not bother him. (He pretends it doesn’t hurt that this is the only time Luther has actually listened to him, when deep inside, maybe, maybe he didn’t mind his brother’s awkward attempts all that much). 

Then Diego, and all his _“this shit is weakness, bro”_ and all those _“you’re better than this, bro” _when really, is he better than this, Diego? Is he? Does he want to be? 

Klaus loves his brother, he really does, and he knows that, in addition to that pesky inferiority complex of his (because he’ll always be Number Two, never able to surpass Luther in his father’s eyes – but really, thinks Klaus, why does he even want to?), Diego also has a hero complex, and threw himself into the role of protector of those he perceives as weaker than him (and thanks a lot for that, Diego!) after Five disappeared, almost as if he could stop that same thing from happening to someone else in the family. 

(Five always used to look after them, and wouldn’t hesitate to volunteer himself for extra training if it meant his siblings could have a break. Who protects the protectors, indeed.) 

But Klaus can’t stand it, he can’t bear all of Diego’s mother-henning and his expectations and his pressuring him into being better because no, he’s not better than this, thank you very much. And so Klaus pushed him away, too, even though it took a _long_ time before Diego really gave up on him (because _hell_ if Diego isn’t a stubborn bastard with a weak spot for his junkie brother who used to crawl into his bed after nightmares). 

And then there’s Allison, who tried, she really did, first by rumoring him into not being able to see the ghosts, which turned him temporarily blind, which freaked her out badly enough that her next attempt was just straight up rumoring him into not being able to leave the mansion to get high, at which point Klaus only got high on the painkillers hidden in the infirmary, all while spitting at her like a mad cat. 

And it was sweet of her to try at all, truly, but Allison never really understood how horrible it feels to be deprived of agency. So Klaus, in a very rare display of anger that managed to shock even dear old Reggie, told her that if she ever tried to rumor him again she’d be dead to him. (He wishes, though, that her powers could really have stopped his from working. He wouldn’t have minded being blind all that much, actually, but then he would still have heard them, and a life as blind and deaf was possibly one of the few things worse than a life surrounded by ghosts.) 

If Five hadn’t disappeared more than three years ago, Klaus is sure he would have found a way to fuck up their relationship too. Or maybe Five wouldn’t even have tried. But no, who is he kidding, Five would have tried harder than anyone else but Klaus is a stubborn bastard, so it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. 

But Five isn’t here, so. It doesn’t matter. He’s not dead, _he’s not_, Klaus knows this, because if he _was_ dead he would have seen him, at least once, during one of those very few plunges he took into sobriety. But no. He’s even tried to summon him, the little bastard, but he never answered or manifested himself, so he’s either gone and fucked off somewhere or he’s dead and just doesn’t care to say goodbye. But Klaus is an optimist at heart and he likes to think that Five is enjoying his teenage years in pure freedom, maybe studying quantum physics at Harvard or some shit like that. Good for him. 

And then there’s Vanya, little, sweet, lonely Vanya who plays her violin for him sometimes and asked him to please stop taking drugs and he just said no, I can’t, you can’t understand because you don’t have powers and you’re ordinary and you just _don’t know_. 

And really, Klaus thinks that he wasn’t too awful to her, all things considered, but Vanya has kind of avoided him since, so maybe he offended her or something or she was just pretending to care about him, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care (or so he tells himself). 

But Ben. Ben still tries. No matter how many times Klaus tells him to fuck off or even offers him drugs. He never gives up on him. And Klaus won’t admit it, but he’s more grateful than he could ever say. 

Ben tries again and again and pleads with him and really, if there’s anyone that can actually manage to convince him to give up drugs, it would probably be him, the only other Hargreeves sibling that hates his powers as much as Klaus, the only one who can really understand him. He’d probably try for him, really. 

(But Klaus doesn’t tell him that. Drugs are easier than trying to get better for the people he cares about. He’s already better when he’s high, anyway, and usually he’s just too high to care about the sheen of tears in his brother’s eyes.)

Ben steps into his room, slowly, quiet as a mouse, and then stops and looks at Klaus. “You’re back,” he whispers. 

Klaus nods and grins at him, rolling in his bed to lay on his side, his head propped on his bent arm. “What,” he giggles, “did you miss me, Benny-boy?” he asks, and then laughs under his hand, stifling the sound because even high out of his mind he’s not senseless enough to forget about his asshole father. 

Ben closes the door softly behind him and steps towards him. “Yeah,” he says, and Klaus almost blinks at that. He’s not used to this. Even dear sweet Benny isn’t one to freely express his feelings. 

One look at his brother is enough to make him see that maybe there is more to this than just missing him. 

He painstakingly manages to sit up in his bed, crossing his legs, and ignores the way the room spins. “Come here,” he murmurs, patting the empty spot beside him. 

Ben shuffles close and sits beside him, leaning on the headrest, legs pulled up to touch his chin, hugging his arms around them as if trying to make himself as small as possible. 

And he does. Look small, that is. Smaller than he’s looked in a long time, Klaus thinks. Ben is tinier than him, than Diego, definitely tinier than Luther, just slightly taller than Allison. They all feel like they need to protect him, the tiny soft-spoken boy with the huge monsters inside him. 

Klaus leans over to reach his bedside table and opens the drawer, picking up an empty pack of aspirin he uses to hide his rolled up joints. He opens it and takes one, lights it up, and puts it to his lips, breathing in the acrid smoke and feeling himself relax. 

He holds it between two fingers and offers it to Ben. “Want a drag?” he questions, and really he doesn’t think his brother will accept because he never does, but Benny surprises him by slowly unfurling from his curled up position to take it. 

Ben takes a smoke and coughs, his eyes watering. “How,” he says hoarsely. “How the fuck can you like this,” he questions, and Klaus lets out a laugh that is way too loud for this time of night, but hey, give him a break. Ben never curses, and it’s funny when he does. 

Ben shushes him with wide eyes, and they both hold their breath as they listen for any kind of noise, the sound of the steps of their father, or Pogo, ready to punish them. 

They both sigh when nothing comes. 

“You’re really stupid, you know that?” says Ben, rolling his eyes, but Klaus can see his lips twitching and he grins at him. 

Ben goes for another smoke, and this time doesn’t choke on it, but still grimaces before giving it back to him. “Ugh,” he complains, eloquently. 

Klaus’s fingers shake, as they always do, when he takes it back and lifts it to his lips. “What can I say,” he says, haughtily. “It’s an acquired taste,” he adds, with an awful British accent that still manages to startle a giggle out of Ben. 

Silence falls, after that. It’s comfortable. It’s nice. (He doesn’t regret pushing his siblings away, it’s as much for their good as it is for his own, but he does miss them. He missed this.)

They sit on Klaus’s bed, watching as gray smoke curls around them, relishing in each other’s company. 

Ben wears his Academy pajamas, identical to the ones that Klaus threw in the back of his closet a long time ago. Klaus’s clothes are scattered on the floor, and he’s left with only a pair of tie-dyed boxers he bought with his allowance from some thrift store. Now that he thinks about it, he does feel a bit cold.

He can tell Ben notices when he starts shivering, because he stands up to grab a blanket from the floor and wrap it around him. 

“Thanks, Ben,” he says, hugging the blanket around himself. He throws the stump of the joint into a glass of water that he uses as a makeshift ashtray. 

Ben sits down next to him, this time so close their shoulders touch. He’s stiff, though, a clear contrast to how relaxed Klaus himself is. “Yeah, you’re welcome,” he replies.

Klaus looks at him sideways. “Wanna talk about it?” he asks, bumping his shoulder gently. 

Ben doesn’t say anything at first, but Klaus is a patient person and he doesn’t mind waiting. “I had a nightmare,” he admits, eventually. “About Them,” he continues. 

Klaus grimaces in sympathy. “That sucks,” he observes. 

Ben nods. “I dreamt that,” he pauses, “I dreamt that I lost control and They killed everyone. The criminals, the people we were supposed to protect, and then,” he hesitates, hands curling into fists, “and then They killed you guys. And then They killed me, but honestly I didn’t even mind that part of the nightmare because at least it made me wake up,” he explains, and his voice is all vulnerable and scared and Klaus hates that. 

He shifts and raises his arm, inviting Ben to get under the blanket with him, and the smaller teen doesn’t hesitate to lean on him. Klaus wraps his arm around him and squeezes softly. Ben lays his head on his shoulder and sighs. 

Klaus feels warm. He’s finally warm. He’s always so cold, in this fucking old house, and when he’s alone in the mausoleum, and when the ghosts try to touch him, and when he gets out in the streets looking for a quick fix. He’s always cold but he isn’t, not now, not while he holds the only brother who still puts up with his shit. 

“Tell you what,” Klaus says, laying his cheek to rest on Ben’s soft hair. “Why don’t we run away? We’re turning eighteen in a few months, anyway. What do you say we pack our bags and just get the fuck outta here?” he proposes, only half serious until he realizes how much he actually wants this. “We can even let the others tag along, if they want. A huge ‘fuck you’ to dear old Daddy. I can steal some money from him, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice,” he continues, his voice low but kind of excited. 

And Ben, calm, shy Ben, who was never really all that rebellious, smiles. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I’d like that.”

Klaus is surprised. He really didn’t think Ben would agree. The nightmare must have really freaked him out. “Really?” he asks, incredulous, a huge smile on his face. 

Ben fidgets slightly. “Yeah. I think if I stop having to force Them out, I can control them better. And Dad keeps telling me to– to just use them, and Luther too, and I can’t anymore. I don’t wanna hurt anyone anymore, not even the bad people who deserve it,” he says, and he sounds all choked up, and fuck, if Ben cries then Klaus will cry for sure and it will be a snot-fest. Ben doesn’t cry though, he just sniffles softly and swallows audibly. “So yeah. Let’s run away from here. Life on the streets can’t be much worse than this shithole,” he adds, and once again surprises Klaus with his dirty mouth. 

He whistles slowly. “Damn, Benny, didn’t think you had the balls for this,” he jokes, and huffs as he’s elbowed in the ribs, but his wide smile doesn’t leave his face.

He’s getting really giddy at the thought. Running away with his favorite brother. This might just be the best day of Klaus’s life. 

“But,” Ben says suddenly. And Klaus stiffens. He knows he’s not gonna like what comes next. “But first, you gotta get clean, man. I’m not running away just to have you trip and make a noise and get us caught by dad.”

Klaus blinks. Getting clean sounds like a real nightmare, but maybe... maybe out of here? Out of this hellish house, maybe he’ll be able to deal with the ghosts? 

“Please, Klaus,” Ben says, and Klaus really has to learn to resist those puppy-dog eyes. “_Please_. For me,” he pleads. 

And damn. He can’t really say no to that. 

“Okay,” Klaus find himself saying. “I’ll try.”

Running away with his favorite brother and maybe being followed by a dozen ghosts. Less exciting than he’d like, but still, running is running and he can run pretty fast. He’s sure he can outrun a spirit. He won’t be trapped in a tomb anymore, where he can’t run, so at least there’s that.

And he wouldn’t be alone. Running from ghosts and responsibilities with his brother doesn’t sound too bad, even without the heavier drugs. 

The prize of being free of his father’s claws might be just enough incentive for him to actually quit. Not pot, he’ll never give up pot, or alcohol, but maybe he can get by with just that and give up on the pills. 

Also, _Ben_. Ben is a pretty big incentive. 

Klaus may just be the lookout, but he can’t look out for his tiny brother if he’s high off his ass. 

So, in the next few weeks, he works on getting sober. 

Ben is there with him every step of the way, holding his hair as he throws up, rubbing his back, bringing him water and food and helping him to the bathroom. He hides the pills and never once gets mad when Klaus screams and cries and tells him he hates him for making him do this because he knows Klaus doesn’t mean it and he really is trying. For him. For Ben. 

Three weeks after that late night conversation, three weeks after Klaus stumbled back into his room and Ben came to him for comfort, the worst of the withdrawal symptoms have stopped. 

He still craves drugs, of course, he still wants the ghosts to go away, he still hates his powers, but most of all, what he really really wants is to keep seeing his brother so proud of him and happy and excited about leaving. So he stays sober. It’s not easy, but it’s a little price to pay for his future freedom and his brother’s smile. 

He can tell the others have noticed. They spend more time around him, now, and Diego squeezes his shoulder and Allison hugs him and Vanya smiles at him. Luther doesn’t nag, which is a big enough improvement.

And Ben. Ben is _so_ proud of him. It almost hurts how proud Ben is because Klaus feels selfish for not having done this before, stupid for not having realized that he just needed someone to believe in him to get better. 

They’re leaving after this one last mission. Klaus is still gonna be the lookout, and for once he doesn’t really mind, nervous energy buzzing through his veins. He actually wants to enjoy his last mission before he leaves the mansion forever. One last hurrah.

_This is it_. They’re really doing this. After this mission, they’re going. 

They’ve packed everything they’ll need, and Klaus has stolen enough money and stuff to pawn from the house that they can make it for a few months. They haven’t told the others, but they probably will soon. 

They’re ready. 

Klaus stays outside and smiles and winks at Ben as he gets in the building, paired up with Luther while Diego follows Allison in the opposite direction. It’s just one of the many bank robberies they deal with on a semi-regular basis. 

Klaus makes sure to keep watch on the perimeter, but nothing interesting happens. He can hear shots from inside and the roars of the Horror and the screams of the criminals as they’re ripped apart. Nothing new here. 

A shot rings out, somehow louder than the others, and the Horror’s shrieks stop suddenly, and Klaus frowns. One of the ghosts that has been following him since he got clean suddenly gets his attention, bloodied limbs flailing in agitation and pointing to the entrance of the bank. 

He has a bad feeling, so he runs inside and that’s when he sees him. Ben. 

Luther is holding him and there’s so much blood. So much blood. 

But Klaus isn’t looking at Ben’s body in Luther’s arms, no. He’s looking at the perfect replica of his brother standing behind Luther, covered in blood and staring, horrified, at his own corpse. Klaus is the only one who’s looking at him, while the others try to save the unsavable. 

His green eyes are clear and present when they meet those of his brother’s ghost, dark and wide and full of fear, and Ben shakes his head at him, sadly, mouthing a silent _“I’m sorry”_. 

No. No, no, no, _no_–

That night, Klaus walks into his room and sees the bags, packed, ready for leaving. He trashes everything he can get his hands on and yells and rages and punches the wall, and then takes so many pills that he overdoses. 

His siblings scream at him and call him selfish and Diego punches him and Ben’s ghost cries harder than Vanya, but he doesn’t apologize. 

No. He’s done with trying to be better for someone else. It never ends well. He’s better off high off his ass. That way he can’t get hurt or hurt anyone, and no one will expect anything from him – if not for him to finally fuck himself up enough that he won’t be able to be saved. That’s just how it has to be. 

The day of Ben’s funeral he can barely stand straight and stares at nothing. Ben’s ghost is right there beside him, and maybe Klaus should comfort him but he doesn’t feel up to it. His head feels floaty and his eyes sting. Rain hits his back and wets his hair and he doesn’t even notice. He just shivers, because he’s cold, he’s always cold, and this time there is no one who’ll hold him and keep him warm. His siblings don’t look at him, he doesn’t look at them, and he just breathes in the pleasant smell of wet earth – not all that different from the smell of the joint he and Ben shared that night. 

The next day, he runs away without saying goodbye, seventeen and scared and high as a kite, but not alone. Not really. 

Ben is there with him. 

(But he never asks Klaus to get clean for him again.) 

**Author's Note:**

> (Regarding the fact that Klaus is afraid of being blind and deaf – please don’t take his thoughts as offensive or disrespectful to visually impaired people, or deaf/hoh people, they’re wonderful and I have so much admiration for them. Klaus is afraid of the dark, and being completely deprived of sight, because that’s what Allison’s rumor did, would be horrible for him, regardless of whether he could hear or not. Also imagine how big of an asshole Reggie would have been if Klaus couldn’t even be the lookout.)


End file.
